


Masterpiece and Natural Disaster

by Elenhin



Series: home knitting and home cooking [2]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Natural Disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenhin/pseuds/Elenhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sequel of sorts to Warmth. Belonging to the same series. </p>
<p>Dawn has managed to make Anders cook for her again, but now she finds out why Ty says that Anders cooking is either masterpiece or disaster. This time happens to be a disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masterpiece and Natural Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aramirandme81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramirandme81/gifts).



Masterpiece and Natural Disaster

 

When Dawn let slip to Ty that Anders had cooked a meal for the two of them she had not quite expected him to give her such a smug smile.

 

“What did he make, one of his masterpieces, or a natural disaster?” Ty asked with something of a grin.

 

“It was good, really good,” Dawn informed him. “I had no idea Anders could cook like that. But, it was amazing Ty, one of the best meals I’ve ever had. I thought you were the best cook I knew, but now I’m not so sure anymore,” she admitted with something of a blush. “But don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy your cooking.”

 

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I know Anders is better than me, when he succeeds that is, but sometimes it’s more along the line of a natural disaster. It’s always one or the other. There is no middle ground. Best meal you can remember ever having, or, a living nightmare.”

 

“I find that very hard to believe,” she mused. “How could he be that bad when he’s really that good?”

 

Ty shrugged, “Can’t say, sometimes I think it’s the expectations, or something else. I’m not a psychiatrist so I can’t tell you. But Anders never really liked to cook, and I guess having to do it for me and Axl just made him dislike it more. Then Val, well, I’d have to say that perhaps she was a bit jealous that he was better than her so whenever it went wrong, she’d kind of rub it in. The more she did that, the more often he messed up.”

 

“That’s a shame,” Dawn frowned. “But I still don’t quite see how he could completely ruin a meal when he’s so good at it.”

 

“You’ll see,” Ty grinned. “I’m not going to tell you, but if he cooks for you again, you’ll see.”

 

In spite of this Dawn could not help but look forward to it. Anders had shown such confidence in what he was doing, this from the man whom she had seen eat old leftovers that she would have prefered to throw out. Not to mention the same man who could happily and easily simply forget to eat for several days and would grab a package of crisps and a glass of vodka when she reminded him.

 

There was just no one quite like Anders, and sometimes she did not know if that was a good thing or not.

 

She did manage to use her newfound knowledge to her advantage. Using it as a bargaining chip when Anders wanted her to do something. She’d agree, and gladly, if he cooked. Taking care of unpleasant parts of the business was not half as bad if she could drive past Anders flat on the way home, and he would just about have the dinner ready when she walked in through the door.

 

It was strangely domestic but not quite at the same time. Anders would object and try to wheedle out of it, though sometimes she could swear he actually enjoyed it. It was complicated, but it was a way to get Anders to eat proper food for once, and at the same time it was she doing what he wanted.

 

Their relationship was complicated, not quite employer and employe, and not quite friends, there was a lot more to it and a lot of bumps along the way.

 

Anders was still a great cook though and she found herself looking forward to it with much anticipation.

 

“I’m not letting this become a habit Dawn,” he cautioned her as he checked one of the pots on the stove.

 

“We’ll see about that,” she grinned teasingly. “You need me Anders, and this is what it will cost you.”

 

“That’s not fair,” using a small spoon he sampled it, then frowned. “Try this.” He dipped the spoon in the pot again before handing it to her.

 

“It’s delicious Anders,” she smiled after having her taste. “If the rest is as good, I’d almost consider renegotiating my salary. I could almost see myself working for supper, almost.”

 

Anders however gave an amused snort. “That’s not going to happen Dawn. I keep telling you, I don’t like doing this, I’m only doing it becuase well, I know you take a lot of crap from me, and I’d rather cook than have you quit. But pretty soon you’ll be abusing the privilege and then ‘I’ will quit.”

 

“Alright, no more supper for a while,” she sighed and he gave a nod.

 

“Thank you. Get Ty to bake you something if you’re so desperate. He’s the one you should be nagging to do this anyway.”

 

“I’ll ask him to come by with cupcakes,” she decided. “Enough for all of us.” She moved to set the table when she heard a dull thud behind her, followed by a loud clang and a splash. There was a low hiss from Anders and when she turned around she saw how the front of his shirt was completely soaked in water hot enough that steam rose from it.

 

“Shit!” Anders started tearing at the buttons, a grimace of pain on his face. “I fucking hate to cook!”

 

“My God, are you okay?” hurrying forward she turned the faucet on as cold as it would go, then realized how futile that would be. “I’m gonna start up the shower cold Anders,” she stated as he managed to get the shirt off. An angry red covered his chest and arms, a slightly less tint curving back along his ribs and over his shoulders.

 

“I fucking well ‘hate’ to cook,” he declared again as he followed her into the bathroom. Quickly kicking off his shoes and wrestling with his belt.

 

“Anders, this isn’t the time to bother with that,” she frowned. The longer he took the worse the burns would be.

 

He got the belt open and pushed the slacks down. “Bad enough the dinner is ruined, I’m not going to add my slacks to the list. Fuck I hate this!” the last he added with empathise, wincing as he touched the skin on his chest. Wearing socks and boxers still he stepped into the shower and gave a whimper as the cold water hit his chest. After the initial shock it was soothing though and he was able to take a few deep breaths.

 

“So, is this the natural disaster Ty was talking about when he said that your cooking was either a masterpiece, or well, a disaster?” Dawn asked, biting her lip as she held the shower head. She checked the spray making sure it wasn’t too hard. Better to get less water than have the jets be hard enough to cause him pain.

 

“I guess,” Anders shrugged, almost shivering but well aware that the burns had to be cooled. “I’m a shitty cook Dawn. Sure, I got you fooled for a start, but this is how it always ends, I’m shit and can’t even boil water.”

 

“Aren’t you a little hard on yourself?” she didn’t like the tone of his voice, the one she unfortunately knew quite well. Anders always displayed such confidence, appeared to be so pleased with himself, but Dawn still knew this tone of voice a little too well. Anders could also be incredibly hard on himself. “It was an accident.”

 

“It’s the way I always fuck it up,” he half snapped, then swallowed. “Sorry Dawn.”

 

“No need to apologize,” shifting the shower head she tried to judge the extent of the damage. She knew that she probably should suggest going to a doctor, but she also knew Anders well enough not to do that. It was bad enough as it was.

 

Anders reached over to turn the water off, sighing as he looked down on his chest. A few blisters and some nasty looking burns while most of the skin was just red. “Could you hand me a towel?”

 

“You don’t think we should keep the water on a little longer?” she frowned but he shook his head.

 

“I’m turning into an icicle,” Anders muttered, getting out and patting his chest with the towel, giving a hiss. There was a flush to his cheeks that Dawn did not think came from the hot water. He made a disgusted face as he leaned against the counter while pulling his socks off, throwing them away from himself. Now Dawn could see that there was a line on his stomach where the red burns endeded, or at least faded in intensity. Apparently his trousers had offered more protection than the shirt though there were a few red spots on his thighs.

 

His jaw was clenched and his lips a thin line as he tried to pat himself dry again and still winced.

 

“Do you have any lotion?” she asked and he shook his head. “Nothing?”

 

“I normally don’t use stuff like that,” he pointed out.

 

“We need to get you some, it will help.”

 

“It’s fine,” Anders turns around and opens the door to the bedroom, finding a t-shirt that he quickly pulls on. He is stiff and rigid now, and Dawn does not like it one bit. She can tell that he is feeling embarrassed and humiliated even though she do not think there is any need for that. He’s looking at her as if he wants to ask her to leave.

 

“Anders, if you even think I will think less of you in anyway because you had an accident in the kitchen, then you and me will have a serious talk about it,” she starts to cut him off before he can start and she is pleased to see him take a step back. “No one can succeed all the time, it’s as simple as that.”

 

“This is a little worse than me burning the meat,” Anders starts slowly with just a hint of a tremble in his voice. “And it’s been made plenty clear to me more than once that as long as I mess up like this, I should stay the hell away from the kitchen.”

 

“Ty said Val gave you a hard time about it,” Dawn nods. “I can see why that would bother you. Did she enjoy to cook?”

 

“She liked those stupid health recipes,” he shrugs, a little suspicious. he isn’t sure where she’s going with it, or if he even wants to know.

 

“Some women don’t like men who are better than they are,” Dawn shrugs. “They like to complain how the men are no help. A man who actually can do the job better than they can, they might see that as a threat and want to discourage it.”

 

“So, you’re saying because I can cook, Val gave me hell about it so she could give me hell about being shit at it?” Anders asks and Dawn nods.

 

“Well, she is a fucking bitch, so I wouldn’t put it past her,” he decides.

 

“I can’t promise it is like that, only she would know,” Dawn states softly. “But I know you’re an amazing cook, and I don’t care about anything more than you being okay right now. You truly are a great cook though, and I don’t want anyone making you think otherwise.”

 

Anders swallows lightly and pauses to collect his thoughts which Dawn knows to mean it is something that is quite difficult for him to talk about. Anders hardly ever has to gather his thoughts. “When I mess up in the kitchen Dawn, I’m lucky if it isn’t worse than that. Mike had to haul me off to the AE a couple of times, and they don’t really believe you when you say you laid your hand open making a salad. And yeah, Val would be pissed as hell which could be for several reasons. But it’s all boiling down to one thing, sure I can cook, but the end result is just me screwing it up just like I do with everything else. I’m just shit Dawn, and there is no getting around that.”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dawn states firmly. “What it all boils down to is that too many people have given you a lot of crap for things that are not your fault. And apparently you have started to believe them, but it’s wrong, so how about not giving them the victory? Now, I am going out to buy some lotion for those burns, and since I have to admit that this meal is pretty much past saving by now, I will also get us both something to eat. Then next time we can cook together.”

 

She leaves before he can object, or agree, or really say anything. Then again, that is Dawn for you. Petite and diminutive a lot of the time, gentle and soft, but with teeth and claws when she feels like it. When she has made up her mind, there is nothing he nor Bragi can really do about it, all he can do is yield and save himself the grief of futile arguing.   
  
It is Dawn who will win this anyway, so he throws out the ruined meal and settles to wait for her to come back.

  
At least he will get something to eat, and some lotion will sooth the burns that really stings.

 

It’s really nice to have someone like Dawn. She might boss him around more than he cares for at times. She will not let him give up.

 

She cares.

  
The End


End file.
